


Bring Him Back

by asterism87



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterism87/pseuds/asterism87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen can't leave Ser Barris to die at Therinfal Redoubt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Him Back

"You know I can't leave them to die," Cullen said through clenched teeth, his voice quiet despite his anger and frustration. 

"And you know that I can't reveal the location of certain parties to assist in your request," Varric said calmly. There was an undercurrent of pity in his voice, but pity without action wouldn't save them. He needed his help. He needed Hawke, or at least Hawke's friends. They'd be strong enough to handle whatever was in Therinfal Redoubt. Or at least strong enough to bring some of them out.

To bring one of them out.

"Then don't tell me Varric just help me save them." He was begging. He was begging and he promised himself that he would never beg for anything again after what happened at the Circle, after they got into his mind and tried to break him. Cullen flinched away from the sound of his own voice, disgusted by the pleading and desperation.

  
Varric sighed. "Look Curly I want to help you, I really do. But I can't do that unless you tell me the truth. Why do you care so much?" Varric looked at Cullen then, his eyes focussed steadily on Cullen's face. Cullen didn't ask for favors; if he needed something done he preferred to do it himself. It was always soldiers first, thinking things through second. This wasn't like him and Varric needed to know why.

"There's no reason."

"Curly."

"There's a....colleague. Ser Delrin Barris." Cullen said the words as though they had been ripped from the very core of his being.

"Ah a 'colleague'." Varric sat back in his chair, fingers steepled while he waited for Cullen to continue.

Cullen looked away, nostrils flaring. This was what he wanted to avoid. Varric wasn't a bad guy but he knew that this would come back up, that Varric would bring it up as a joke, not as a way to write it off but as a way to have a genuine conversation about it. He wasn't ready for that, would never be ready for that. Cullen sighed, running a hand over his face. This wasn't about him right now. This was about Delrin.

"Barris--Delrin--he's important to me."

"Yeah I got that figured out Curly."

"No you really don't," he said quietly, head bowed, half hoping that Varric wouldn't hear it.

"Then tell me."

Cullen breathed deep, looking at Varric's eyes before flicking them away.

"We were Templars together in Fereldan. We didn't know each other before the Order but since we joined he's been--is--my rock. He knew me at my worst; he knew me when I feared and loathed mages. He knew me when I was so doped up on lyrium it was dangerous, he knew me and cared for me in ways that I could never repay. He stood by my side and reigned me in, showed me the good in mages, even if I didn't want to listen. He showed me the good in myself that I didn't want to see. That I was scared to see." Cullen paused, his face pale, scared to look at Varric but also unable to stop what he had started.  

He swallowed.

"He wasn't there at the Circle when the mages lost control...but he was there for me after. He sent me letters while I was at Kirkwall, always asking after me, visiting me when he had the time." A small smile had made it's way to Cullen's face, remembering the days they spent in the Lowtown Bazaar the first time Barris had visited. Neither of them really felt like they belonged in Hightown, but Lowtown. Well Lowtown was perfect. The colorful shops, the Hanged Man, it was perfect for two men who just wanted to _be_.

Varric was looking at him with soft eyes. Cullen couldn't handle that. The smile vanished and he could feel himself turning red, embarrassed by his weakness. He felt utterly naked, exposed by the compassion that he saw in Varric's eyes.

Varric was silent, deep in thought.

  
"Varric," Cullen said quietly. "If this was Hawke, if Hawke was in trouble and you knew that you had the power to save her, wouldn't you go? Wouldn't you do something, anything, to bring her back?"

"I'll see what I can do."

\--

He went to Leliana next.

"I'm already on it," she said, never taking her eyes off of the papers she was perusing.

"You're on..."

She looked up at that, her face arranged in a smirking mask of incredulity, as if to say, _Cullen don't be slow you know I know everything that happens in this camp_. 

"Ser Delrin Barris, your personal Hawke," her voice lilting teasingly, unmasked glee making her eyes sparkle at Cullen's discomfort.

"How did you--but I didnt--" He spluttered, his face turning a deep red. He closed his eyes. Maybe if he just wished hard enough his face would go back to normal and the ground would swallow him up.  

"Thank you Leliana."

She nodded as she went back to her papers, her face smug as she continued extracting whatever information she needed.

As he walked away from the tent he couldn't help but think, _Maker_ _now I have to hear about it from her too._

\--

"Josephine, Delrin and I...we're not like that."

Josephine's eyes lost a bit of their sparkle, her enthusiasm about their perceived epic love story stopped by the undeniable sadness in Cullen's voice.

"But you want to be. You love him," she said certainly, no doubt coloring her voice at all. Cullen looked skyward, hoping that maybe he could find some way to express himself without exposing the complicated feelings swirling inside him. How did he tell her that he loved Delrin with all his heart but he wasn't-- the circumstances were never-- he didn't know if--

Josephine's eyes never left his face, scrutinizing intensely while keeping that sweet veneer. Cullen wasn't fooled he knew she was taking in everything that was happening, filing it away later for potential use or reference.

"You don't have to say anything Cullen I've already called in a few favors. I'm always willing to help." Her eyes held some sadness, from what he didn't know but he was grateful that she had dropped it, that he didn't have to explain this right now.

"They should be ready within the next week, coincidentally when the Inquisitor will be heading to Redcliffe." Josephine paused, her eyes going steel sharp.

"Does she know that you're doing this?"

\--

The Inquisitor wasn't a fool.

She knew.

She might have known before Cullen had even gone to Varric. He didn't know how she knew, everyone said that they hadn't breathed a single word, that such an operation didn't use Inquisition resources so there was no reason for them to report to the Inquisitor.

Yet somehow she knew.

As they left the War Room, she sidled up to Cullen, walking next to him as he returned to his post. They talked of tactics, Cullen's neck craned to talk with her of their troops, how the soldiers development was coming along. She walked with a small smile, occasionally touching her horns when in deep thought, joking about their ragtag army. When they reached their destination she turned to face Cullen, her smile soft, almost serene.

"Bring him back," she said plainly. No condemnation, no judgement, no doubt, just unequivocal support for him.

In that moment he felt his throat close, tears welling in his eyes. He didn't know that it had meant so much to him, the support of this Qunari mage who he had only known a short while. Those three words were her permission, her blessing.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak without some embarrassing display. He smiled with watery eyes and felt some of the tension relax from his body.

Barris was going to come back. 

\--

Iron Bull and an elf with an Antivan accent carried Barris through the Chantry doors. Their easy banter filled with sexual innuendo was out of place in the Chantry but they might as well have been silent for all Cullen was paying attention to them. All he could process was Barris, his feet barely able to support him, the scratches and dents in his armor. He looked to be having trouble breathing, his breathing shallow and fast as though no matter how much air he tried to take in it would never be enough. They had cleaned the blood up but he could see the bruises and cuts, or at least the ones visible where the armor couldn't hide it. His eyes cut to Vivienne, standing by the doors, vaguely interested by the proceedings. She met Cullen's gaze and gave him a slight nod. If he needed her skills she would be there. Mother Giselle maintained her distance, assessing quietly.

They both knew what needed to be done before any healing could begin.

They took him to the War Room, put him in one of the chairs that they rarely used in their meetings. The elf made a passing comment about repaying Varric but then they were gone and it was only him and Barris, together after so much suffering. Barris let the back of his head rest on the chair, breathing slow and deep in an attempt to collect himself.

His eyes were closed.

Cullen tried not to hover so he paced, rubbed his hands through his hair, but never going too far, just an outstretched hand away.

"So. Defecting from the Chantry? Fur coats? Never thought in all my years I'd ever see that happen," Barris said breaking the silence, amusement coating his voice.

Cullen slowed his pacing, smiling slightly. Some things never change.

"And you? Still in the Templars even when it's all gone to hell?" He tried to keep his tone light but the words stuck in his throat, an undeniable rasp making his voice feeble.

Barris grabbed his hand. "Cullen, I know that you--"

"No, stop." Cullen was torn between ripping his hand away and tangling his fingers in Barris'. Instead he decided to kneel, his knees aching on the hard floor, but this was important.

This mattered.

He raised his other hand to touch Barris face, trying not to let the overwhelming pressure of his emotions seep through. Barris leaned into the touch, relaxing minutely.

Cullen closed his eyes to compose himself.

"Cullen," Barris said softly, "could you please help me.." he outstretched his arm, the metal bent and scratched almost beyond imagining.

"Of course."

Taking off the armor was difficult, for both of them. Barris had suffered far more damage than he had probably anticipated. Every slide of metal came with a hissed breath or a grunt of pain. Cullen wanted to give up, he really did.

He didn't want to hurt him.

But the more he saw the less he could stop. Beneath the metal, the padding, the tunic, was a body filled with bruises so dark that they made Barris' skin seem black-blue, the healthy brown wan in comparison to the deep purples blossoming across his chest and arms. He took a hand and lightly touched Barris' ribs where it seemed the most colorful. The subsequent hiss of pain was so high-pitched that Cullen drew his hand back like he had touched fire, apologizing profusely, tears clouding his vision as he took in the extent of the damage. Barris brought a hand to Cullen's face, stroking it lightly.

Then he began to speak.

He had watched the corruption take over the order, had watched his friends and mentors turn against one other. He had never seen so much templar blood shed before. Had never seen so many faces that he once ate with and laughed with brutally destroyed. He had never seen so many limbs removed from bodies, screams of terror and agony ringing out in the halls. He had never--he began to cry.

The emotion that he had been holding in all became too much. His body couldn't contain the pain anymore, not just the pain he felt physically but the pain of cutting down those he had loved, seeing them mutilated beyond all recognition. He cried for the crumpling of an order that had destroyed itself from the inside.

He cried for himself.

Cullen took deep breaths, breath hitching slightly. He had closed his eyes when Barris had talked of the horrors laced with red lyrium, the demons inhabiting the bodies of good people who wanted to serve the Maker. He opened his eyes to look at Barris, to take in his face as he wept. He was aware then of how alone they were, Barris' soft cries reverberating off the walls. Cullen reached his arms out, using his hands to guide Barris forehead to his own. He wiped a tear away with his thumb, but he knew the flow wouldn't stop. So he stayed there, holding Barris while he wept for all he had lost. The tears that Cullen wanted to cry were stuck inside of him, tears for the horrors that Barris had seen, tears for the pain that he had gone through. He let Barris weep enough for the both of them. 

 When Barris finally quieted, he leaned back, wiping a hand over his face, the pain clearly etched in where it hadn't been when he walked through the hall. He gave a weak smile, and in that moment Cullen wanted to close that short distance and kiss the pain away. But this wasn't the time nor the place. He took Barris' hand and squeezed it before letting go and pushing himself up.

"We need to get you looked at Delrin."

Barris clenched his hand slightly, nodding gently.

"I have to leave you here to get Vivienne and Mother Giselle but I'll return quickly."

"I know I need to get this," Barris said as he waved a hand up and down his body, "looked at but could you just stay with me. For just a few more moments?" Barris looked at Cullen tentatively, as if he was scared that his request would be denied.

Cullen pulled up a chair and sat back down.

"For you, anything."

Barris grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together. He leaned back against the chair and relaxed as he felt Cullen's thumb rub slow circles into his hand. Eventually his breath evened out, his body finally getting the rest that it needed.

Cullen stayed there for a few more minutes, looking at their linked hands before he extricated himself and left the War Room. Vivienne and Mother Giselle were already prepared, stave and herbs ready. He smiled wanly, gratefully and beckoned to them. Things weren't fixed and everything was wrong but this much he could do.

He could start here.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! This was completely unbeta'ed and written in a frenzy so if there are any problems please let me know :)


End file.
